Artflux

My Trek Series 800 mountain bike which is my main mode of transportation around town had been put on the shelf since last January when the chain broke. The lag in repairing it was mainly that I decided that I would actually repair it myself. So I purchased an 8 speed SRAM chain, and universal Summit chain breaker on ebay. I installed the chain finding that the shifting was erratic so assuming the chain was too long I took a few more links out. Furthermore I discovered that my detailer cable housing was corroded and need to be replaced. Well then so onto the next project. I bought a new saddle as well from Nashbar that hopefully will arrive today.

After scrubbing both my bikes which were both in desperate need of the annual cleaning and putting on a Selle San Marco Aspide Arrowhead saddle purchased on ebay from a cyclist in Breckenridge, CO.

I remembered stopping by for lunch there when we were on the way back from the Vail Pass ride. Pretty cool. Its very comfortable as well. The Panaracer Stratius Extreme tires are still going strong without any flats after 2806 miles of city riding (mostly in Central Park) they are still going strong. I’m shy 390 miles to date this year compared with 2006. I’m ready for more 50 mile rides to make up for it.

War #4, 2006 Watercolor on Rag Paper

Gray overcast late afternoon
September Saturday – a bicycle ride
to a large irregular corner room
four beds, one empty – visitor chatter
Clinton has a view, inward now
into his own space – know it well
every gasp a deep struggle without
the feed line – lunch untouched
we talk – quotidian – just so much
searching for humor, graze politics – he knows
Allan’s time foredrawn – eschewing clearly
that hope of the terminal
“Take the apple” – “you’re sure?” –
I hate to waste food. ‘Take the Times,
can’t read much – just leave the art page.”
Air is getting thin, the tight
smallish cadmium medium/dark Red Delicious
weighs heavy in my pocket.
Tuesday Clinton decides to leave.

Another Saturday, brighter this time, earlier
hazed sun illuminating roof tops
a pale blue sky across town looking east
Allan speaks of his treatments, his pain
Irma goes for ice cream, vanilla – home made
nothing tastes any longer.
I sum my last visit with Clinton
“How was he ? did he gasp for air ? I know
nothing of this last part of his life”
I tell him all, the little I talked with him –
that I kissed him on his clammy forehead
good bye – Irma goes, Bressler comes
issues to tend to – I ride home in cotton reality,
keep the apple around.

Took it out of cold storage today
its girth still firm – skin
wrinkling over its humpback,
color dulling, bruises appearing on resting points
stem still attached after six months, picked
too soon – I return it to the cold.

For Clinton and Allan
3 26 04
R. Cherry NYC

Good Old Army

Just above the Mexican border,
Fort Bliss is the spot,
Where we are doomed to serve our time,
In the land that god forgot.

Down with the snakes and lizards,
Down where a man feels blue,
Right in the middle of nowhere,
And a thousand miles from you.

We sweat, freeze, and slave,
It’s more than a man can stand,
We’re not supposed to be convicts,
Just defenders of our land.

We’re soldiers of the desert,
Earning our measly pay,
Guarding people with millions,
Just for 2.50 a day.

Living with only memories,
Wishing to see our gals,
Hoping that while we are away,
They haven’t married our pals.

Nobody knows we’re living,
Nobody gives a damn,
At home we are forgotten,
Because we belong to Uncle Sam.

The time we have spent in the Army,
The best ones of our life we have missed
Boys don’t let the draft get you,
And for God’s sake don’t enlist.

When all of us get to heaven,
To all the saints will tell,
We’re soldiers of the desert,
And have had our share of HELL !!!

JUST A COUPLE OF LONELY FORGOTTEN “G.I’s”

George R Childress

Van W. Malmstrom

Van W. Malmstrom my Great Uncle contracted polio and died as a result shortly after this poem was written.

June 4 – August 16, 2007

Opening reception: Thursday, June 7, 6-8 p.m.
R.S.V.P.

As We See It features works by the members of The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Community Center’s Photography Club. The images showcase a diverse variety of themes, styles and techniques.

For more information and a preview of the exhibition, please visit www.nycphotoclub.com. 25% of all sales will benefit The Center.

Includes work by Tom Giebel. Click to see his Atomische daily photoblog.

208 West 13th Street • New York, NY 10011

Click here for a show preview.

My neighborhood friends, Crista Grauer, Regina Cherry and myself got together last night exploring Stickam while streaming live video. Most of the live feeds were younger kids so we did a search for members around our own age (50 something) We ran across a live chat with Alan Silva in Paris. The services special ingredient was the live interaction in chat room style.

Regina had heard Alan play some time ago in New York. We wathced some of the youtube videos and realized that we were chatting with someone who had created great works of music and video.

Colt Whitmore was featured on the homepage of Stickam so we found ourselves hanging out on his chatroom for the rest of the evening that kept us highly entertained. There are 153 videos posted on youtube.com/coltwhitmore Well apparently Colt loves making people laugh, and doing anything to get that laugh. He’s 18 from Idaho…yes Idaho of all places. ‘I’m here to show everyone there is more to Idaho than just Potatoes. I’m puttin Idaho back on the map..even thou its already there.’

Hey with live video Myspace, and Facebook the pioneers of the networking circuit seem sota lost in space.

War #6, 2006 Watercolor on Rag Paper

I want you
to fuck me
debase me
love and destroy me
barely touch me
envelop me
pain me
maim me and
weep with me
over our frail
preposterous
humanity